Shooting Stars and Dandelion Wishes
by katkittykatie
Summary: Before the adventures of Wendy and her brothers, there was Elizabeth. A young, energetic girl, who slowly taught Peter things he never even imagined before. He invited her to Neverland, where she decided to stay, forever. Which doesn't end up long at all.
1. New Fallen Snow

The following events took place in 1920,

Years before Wendy came into the picture.

It was sunset, the loveliest sunset I have ever seen. The sun's vibrant color bounced of the white clouds, creating a most beautiful rainbow across the light blue sky. The moon shined patiently, waiting for the sun to disappear so it could silently take hold of the night. I wondered if the moon and sun are friends, even though they are so unlike each other. I-mean-they-both-light-up-the-sky-but-then-again-the-moon-takes-a-day-off-every-once-in-a-while.I-guess-the-sun-does----------

"Elizabeth..." My mother whispered quietly, I didn't hear it.

Too.When-the-clouds-are-in-the-sky-and-it's-gloomy-and-grey-is-when-the-sun-takes-a-break. Oh-how-I-wish---------

"Elizabeth..." My mother repeated, slightly louder. I still didn't hear her.

The-sun-never-took-a-break. OH. But-then-there-would-be-no-winter,-which-means-no-snow,-and-that-would-be-positivily horrible-------

"Elizabeth!" Her voice bellowed through the room, and her pale face flushed a bright pink. She's a very quiet person, so she isn't used to talking loudly, unlike my father on the other hand----

"Maria! Maria, please get the children in bed. I paid good money for this play, and I don't intend for /our/ seats to be given away to crazy baboons!" My father rushed in the door. His tie perfectly tied on his neck, and not a piece of dog hair on his trousers. Yet again, there wouldn't be, for we didn't have a dog! My father's allergic, yet he absolutely adores our cat 'Mr. Duke', who can usually be found strewn across the bed across from mine. My mother never again did have a child, yet we have two beds. It's quite strange.

It's nice though, for the bed closest to our giant glass window has the most beautiful view of the rooftops of London. At night everything is so very peaceful and calm, it's the perfect image to see before you go to sleep. It just guarantees good dreams.

I looked at my father, who seemed to be talking the whole time. Ranting, more like it.

"---I mean dearest. She need's to be punished. Slacking off like that. It's disrespectful!"

"But, Honey, she was doing nothing wrong."

Oh yikes, what did I do this time.

I was horrified yet awfully humored. Seeing my parents argue left me with giggle fit's after they leave. My father towers over my mother at 6 foot 1', and seems to always be yelling with a certainty that everything he says is the most important thing in the world. My mother, on the other hand, is small, fragile, and timid, yet, awfully stubborn. They fit perfectly together. They started for the door, and were about to leave, when all four eyes rested on me. My mother spoke first.

"We need to go. Will you be okay with getting ready by yourself tonight?"

I nodded, and my father patted my head, frowning when a piece of curly blonde hair attached itself to his hand. It refused to come off until he rubbed it against my favorite velvet-cushioned chair.

I waited quietly, like a good daughter should, until they finally left the building. Once they were gone, I breathed out slowly, sighing with relief. I grabbed the chair (The small strand of hair still attached) and set it down near the window, so I could sit and have a perfect view of the night sky, now that the sun had set. I continued rambling inside my head about the relationship between the sun and the moon, and how it may affect the world, until I became incredibly tired. With the rest of my strength I replaced the chair to its usual spot, and then I collapsed on my bed, snuggling between my warm covers.

I must have fell asleep right away, for I don't remember hearing a window opening, or a door either. Yet, when I woke up, I knew it wasn't my father and mother who had entered the house while I was asleep. It was a boy, maybe around 13 or so, in tattered clothing.

I was terrified, what did he want with me? Did he have a weapon? Do I have a weapon? Are my parents home yet? Where's the nearest phone?' Questions filled my mind, what to do, what to do.

I reacted on instinct. I let out a blood-curling scream as I hopped out of my bed, my eyes wide with fear. I pushed the boy on the ground and tried to run out of the room, but end up sprawled on the ground when I trip over my dressers bottom drawer, which I accidentally left open earlier today.

The boy looked at me, my face as pale as new fallen snow, and laughed.

His eyes twinkled like a distant star.


	2. Flying, Fear, and Fairies! Oh my!

The boy realized I wasn't laughing, and cocked his head at an angle, as if pondering why I wasn't. The moon dripped light through the open window, and highlighted his body, showing every freckle and piece of blonde hair on his body.

Really, he wasn't that scary, but I was still petrified, and crawled backwards toward the door. What is this, this /strange/ dirt caked boy doing in my bedroom?

"Get…away. Go..." I tried to choke out words, but they ended up as faint whispers, as silent as morning dew.

This somehow amused the boy, (Who must have very good hearing) and he laughed even harder.

"I /should/ go. Oh, how horrible it is that I must endure the most awful company of a female. But, I'm here for a reason. Where's my fairy?"

I was speechless, and all of my fear dissolved, I was so upset I didn't catch the 'fairy' part. All of my piled up anger and frustration was unleashed on his poor soul.

"How dare you talk about girls like that?" I yelled. I restrained myself from lunging at his /angelic/ face.

"It got you off the floor. Now, back to the point. Where. Is. My. Fairy. I know you captured her yesterday when you were fairy-hunting. Where is she? If you don't tell, I will find out for myself."

"Fairy?" I laughed. "I don't believe in Fairies." It wasn't true, I actually have a very strong belief for them, but I wouldn't let this, BOY, know that.

My statement made his face melt, all of a sudden overwhelmed by sadness.

He whispered something, to soft for me to hear, and as his voice got louder I realized he was croaking, and trying to hold back tears.

"I...I...hate you. I hate you! I HATE YOU!" I have never seen a boy so upset about my beliefs before.

He threw a tantrum, right on my bedroom floor. Still chanting, over and over that he hates me. I finally gave in and said in my most honest voice,

"I do believe in fairies. I do. I'm sorry. I do."

He looked at me, and he twisted his face into a menacing glare.

And with that, he started looking through my things. He would stare at some things and laugh, but then his face would turn way to serious for a young boy. He stopped when he found my butterfly jar that had had 8 beautiful butterflies captured inside. I've found it fascinating, that for the whole 2 days I have had them, they didn't budge from their spots. They made a giant outer layer, so you couldn't see in the middle of the jar. I liked to pretend they were protecting something, but I wasn't curious enough to try to find out what. The boy, I guess, was, and shook the jar with extreme force, and opened the top.

I was extremely annoyed.

"Boy-STOP. Put that top back on! Catch that butterfly, PUT THE TOP BACK ON. Wait. What is that?"

A ball of light, no bigger then an apple, flew out of jar slowly, and landed on the boy's shoulder. It was growing fainter and fainter.

The boy looked extremely upset, and cradling the ball of light between his hands, he flew out my window.

I was relieved he was gone, what a hassle.

I sighed, and went back to snuggling in between my covers.

I was about to fall asleep when my eyes flew wide open.

He… flew?

I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, no matter how badly it seemed I needed it.


End file.
